


inaccessible as the stars

by lonereedy



Series: look at those beautiful stars [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Coffee Shop, Craig still loves space and guineapigs!, Craig/Tweek is tagged as the relationship here due to their interactions but isn't endgame, Crush at First Sight, Drabble, Eric Cartman - mentioned - Freeform, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Heidi Turner - mentioned, I was embarrassed writing so many!, It's hard to tag this one sorry, Kenny McCormick - mentioned, Leopold "Butters" Stotch - mentioned, Linda Stotch - Freeform, M/M, Meet-Cute, Minor Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, One Shot, Poor Tweek, Pre-Relationship, Pre-relationship??, Short One Shot, Swearing, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Tweek loves coffee in any verse, Wendy Testaburger - mentioned, adult Craig, adult Tweek, although the author REALLY wants it to be!!!, ambiguous Twenny, banker Craig, fluff with an angsty ending, implied past Twenny?, it's mostly in his mind though, jobless Tweek, not Tweak Bros!, potty mouth Tweek!, some creek moments, sorry for all the f slurs, the boys are adults!, yep this one is angsty!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23304247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonereedy/pseuds/lonereedy
Summary: Tweek Tweak's a struggling adult trying his best to keep afloat when he bumps into a handsome stranger in the street. Talk about right place, wrong time! Within minutes, Tweek knows that Craig Tucker is everything he's ever wanted in a boyfriend. It's just a shame that for someone like Tweek, Craig's as inaccessible as the stars.[ One shot | Drabble ]Update: This will now have a fluffier sequel! Can still be read alone as an angsty one shot :)
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Series: look at those beautiful stars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678726
Comments: 15
Kudos: 51





	inaccessible as the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope everyone is staying safe and well?! I’m trying something new with this one-shot and I’ll admit now, it was hard for me to stick to my guns and not turn this into cute fluff! I really wanted to write an AU where Tweek and Craig are adults when they meet for the first time. I also wanted to have a go at “fluff with an angsty ending”. I’m curious as to whether or not I succeeded?
> 
> This was good practice for getting into “angst” mode for my main fic!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little drabble and would love to know your thoughts!
> 
> Also, feel free to come and say hi and chat about all things creek or otherwise on Tumblr

Tweek Tweak steps out of the main doors to his apartment building; a run-down, overpriced block of twenty-four flats that towers precariously on its weathered and cracked foundations. It’s a miracle the place is still standing; not that his greedy-as-he-is-sketchy landlord Eric Cartman gives a fuck.

It’s so bright out that Tweek has to shield his eyes from the sun. It’ll do him some good to get out and put the eviction notice at the back of his mind for a few hours. He can still feel the tremor in his fingers from when he’d opened the dreaded envelope, stomach sinking, and collapsed against his kitchenette wall thinking _shit, shit, shit._ He had to get out. Had to try asking round if anyone was hiring this week.

It’s Monday; a fresh start. He’s actually managed to have breakfast this morning thanks to his quiet-but-friendly neighbor, Heidi Turner. She’s gone all mother hen after his hospital admission, but they both know that without money or connections in this town, you’re as good as fucked.

His well-worn, well-loved, second-hand Converse scuff across the uneven sidewalk as he heads into the center of town. A ten-minute bus journey is tripled on foot, but the saving makes it worth it. These days, every penny counts.

Tweek doesn’t mind the walk in this weather. It’s true that everything _looks_ better in the sunshine. Dingy back alleys become bewitching secret passageways; pokey restaurants throw a couple of chairs outside and people are drawn to them, conversing and consuming and snapping selfies with hashtags like _#butfirstcoffee_ , _#caffeineaddict_ and _#coffeelove._

Tweek likes to think the sun shows a better side of him, too. Maybe his gaunt, ashen face suggests chiselled model instead of impoverished deadbeat?

People actually smile at him as they pass in the street. His existence is acknowledged for a few mere seconds, but it reminds him that he hasn’t become invisible. He smiles back, hitting coffee shop after coffee shop in the hope that one is hiring and appreciates a home-trained barista down on his luck.

The sunshine’s also great at reflecting all things shiny, and Tweek’s a magpie for dropped change, a quick and keen learner from the streetwise Kenny McCormick. Tweek thinks of the other man often; how he’d taken him under his wing and become someone more than a brother but not quite a boyfriend. He misses the warmth they shared, cuddled together on some grotty mattress in the cheapest hostel they could afford. Kenny’s moral compass could be a little skewed but he swore never to take anything from anyone. He wasn’t a pickpocket or petty thief. He’d take the loose change from the ground because the owner probably didn’t care enough to pick it up when it fell. No harm in it, he’d reassured Tweek, but you do things right, even when it fucks you up.

But Tweek isn’t smooth like Kenny, and just as he’s reaching down for the quarter, he ends up bumping into someone. The someone in question _oofs_ in the most delectable deep voice, but Tweek’s more concerned about the wet patch spreading across his shirt front. The other party had been carrying a drink, a coffee from Danny’s if Tweek’s nose remembers correctly.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Tweek backs up, assessing his shirt before checking the stranger out.

“No, my bad,” the man apologises, righting himself after the jostle, _and God, is he tall!_ Tweek awkwardly stares back at him, unable to ignore the long, long legs dressed in dark suit trousers and brogues so shiny that Tweek could probably see himself reflected in them if he looked close enough. “You okay?”

__

__

Tweek nods dumbly, bewildered by the genuine concern reflected in the man’s deep green eyes, shielded from the sun behind stylish wire-frame glasses. He’s so ridiculously good looking, and honestly, tall, dark and handsome has always been Tweek’s type, but this whole scenario is so fucking unbelievable that he wants to pinch himself. He’s probably passed out from a combination of exhaustion and malnutrition. _Again._

It’s then that Tweek realizes the man has dropped his coffee. He sneers at the cup on the floor; Danny’s don’t know how to prepare a real flat white; an aficionado like Tweek can tell they just cap the milk on their equally shit cappuccino.

“You know, I probably did you a favor,” Tweek says as the stranger tosses the empty cup into a nearby trashcan. “If you want real coffee, I can recommend a place.”

“Oh?” tall, dark and handsome turns back, and for a second Tweek thinks maybe he sounds a bit too condescending or desperate, but there’s an interested quirk to his smile, “Coffee snob then? You don’t give off the usual hipster vibe.”

“Coffee was my life,” Tweek shrugs, and there’s too much truth to that statement than he should really be divulging to a stranger, no matter how hot they are. He holds out his hand, instantly panicking about the nails he’s chewed down to the nail beds whilst this guy looks like he’s a regular at a salon, his nails are so well-shaped and healthy. “I’m Tweek,” he says quietly.

“Twink?” the man replies, taking Tweek’s hand firmly and shaking it like he’s brokering a business deal. It’s probably not far off the mark; the suit clearly isn’t just for show.

Tweek’s about to correct him when he spots the teasing smirk.

_Son of a bitch! Ahh…if this is a dream, please don’t let me wake up just yet._

“Tweek, eh? That’s a first. Nickname?”

Tweek shakes his head, both relieved and disappointed to let go of the guy’s strong, tanned hand. “Sadly not. My parents liked it. Me, not so much.”

“Makes mine a bit boring though,” the man grins, “Craig. Craig Tucker.”

“Craig,” the name rolls of Tweek’s tongue like honey, “nice to meet you.”

“Well, Tweek, I’ll trust your judgement. My treat, for ruining your shirt.”

“This old thing?” Tweek scoffs, even though this is his best shirt and he’s trying not to think about how fucked he is until Heidi says they can go halves on laundry again. “Worth it for a free coffee with a handsome guy like you. Here on business?”

Craig nods then, “Yeah, ‘til Wednesday. It’s just a short trip. I’m usually based down in Manhattan. You live here then?”

“Yep,” Tweek says, not wanting to go any further on this particular topic. He’s got a week left before he has to vacate the apartment and then God knows what he’ll do? He’s taking it one day at a time. No point in worrying about the inevitable anyway. He’d spent his childhood doing that, and look how that turned out. He owes Kenny for the change in his outlook, but there’s always a sense of fear and paranoia lurking at the back of his mind. “I assure you it looks better when the sun’s out, but it’s not the worst place to be, I guess.”

“And the locals are pretty friendly,” Craig smiles at Tweek, and it’s so blinding that he’s caught off-guard. This isn’t a Heidi let’s-look-on-the-bright-side smile, a Wendy it’s-not-pity-it’s-charity smile or even a Kenny let-me-hold-you-tonight-before-I-disappear-again smile. Tweek spots the little dimple on Craig’s cheek and sighs so hard that Craig actually puts a hand on his arm in concern.

All Tweek can think is, _well, I’m fucked._

“Are you really alright?” Craig leans in close and Tweek wishes he’d at least bothered to shower before leaving the apartment. “You’re so pale, Tweek.”

Tweek tries to play it off with a laugh, “Aah, I’m just tired. Probably a little hungry too, to be honest. I forgot to have dinner last night. Nothing serious.”

Then he clamps a hand over his mouth and turns away from Craig to mentally berate himself. Why the hell did he have to say that? He still hasn’t learned to shut his big mouth and keep his problems to himself. Dammit.

It’s clearly the _wrong_ thing to say too, because now Craig looks like he’s contemplating just leaving this BO-ridden, at death’s door weirdo to go about his business and head back early to civilisation in Manhattan.

“Does this place with decent coffee do good food?” Craig says instead, and Tweek’s confusion sky rockets.

“Erm, I think so?”

“Then lunch is on me.”

Tweek’s as pliable as a statue when a long arm wraps around his waist and keeps him protectively close to Craig’s side.

“Is it far?” Craig asks, as if he’s genuinely worried Tweek wouldn’t be able to make it more than a few steps in his condition. _Ha!_ He thinks humorlessly, _all this fuss for skipping one meal. He’d have a heart attack if he knew my record!_

“N-not at all. It’s one street over.” Tweek recovers quickly and plans to direct them to an old favorite haunt of his: Butters Bakery, a deli style coffee shop run by a local family, the Stotches. Tweek doesn’t care much for the owners, but their son Leo has a heart of gold and used to give Tweek discounts all the time before his father caught on.

Tweek boldy wraps his own arm around Craig’s waist, looking up and catching Craig’s eye with a grin. He then suggestively hooks his thumb into Craig’s back trouser pocket, wondering how damn far Craig will let him go.

Craig has to dip several inches to whisper in Tweek’s ear, “Someone’s eager. But I play nice on first dates,” he blows softly against Tweek’s ear lobe, lips almost close enough to press a kiss there. Tweek’s knees buckle a little and the hand at his waist grips him tightly. Craig’s wearing the dirtiest smirk right now, but shit, it suits him so fine.

They make it to the café in record time and the positive mood helps counter the disappointment Tweek feels when it’s Leo’s mom Linda working the early shift today. There’s a free table for two tucked against the window, with a bright houseplant lovingly cared for by Leo giving them some additional privacy from the other diners.

“So,” Craig picks up a menu, “any coffee recommendations, since you’re the expert?” he’s using his long as fuck legs to rub his $200 brogues against Tweek’s $15 sneakers, trying to initiate a game of footsie under the table.

Tweek flushes crimson and hides his face behind a menu. Even though he’s practically 30 fucking years old, he feels like a teenager again. He wonders how the hell he’s managed to get a hottie like Craig to go on an impromptu coffee date with him?

“It-” Tweek swallows the lump in his throat and tries again, running his own foot up Craig’s trouser leg in response and praying to God it isn’t dirty and Craig’ll have a line of mud or something equally fucking gross down one pant leg when he stands up, “it depends on how you like your coffee? Dark’s bitter, medium’s balanced and sweet, then blonde’s pretty light and fruity-”

“Oh, definitely blonde,” Craig teases, “the least bitter is best, really. I don’t drink a lot of coffee.”

Tweek chooses the French Dark Roast, Craig takes the Blonde Coffee Roast and the pair each order a panini and side salad.

“So Tweek, what is it you do?” Craig asks as they wait for their drinks. It’s a typically innocent ‘getting to know you’ question, but Tweek’s stomach rolls uncomfortably. He can’t answer honestly; not because he likes lying, but because there’s no way he’s turning this fun coffee date with the most beautiful guy he’s ever laid eyes on into something heavy.

“I’m between jobs right now,” Tweek grits his teeth; that’s as close to the truth as he dares, “was a barista. Before that, I played piano in a bar.”

Craig seems impressed none-the-less, “You’re a musician? That’s amazing, Tweek. I was terrible at piano and only marginally better at guitar. My parents gave up on lessons because it wasn’t worth the headaches of listening to me practice.”

Tweek laughs at that, completely understanding since neither of his parents were musically gifted either. “So, which path did you take instead? That suit probably costs more than my apartment!”

 _The apartment that you’ll be kissing goodbye to in a few days_ , he thinks sadly, cursing himself for thinking about it whilst he’s still in Craig’s company.

“Investment banking,” Craig says, rolling his eyes, “boring as it sounds. I really wanted to be an astronaut, or at least working in some capacity for NASA.”

“Still,” Tweek says with just a hint of jealousy, “it must pay the bills.”

“Money isn’t everything-” is all Craig manages to say before a waiter Tweek doesn’t recognise brings their drinks over.

They both take a minute to admire their coffees, Craig conceding that his smells a lot better than the one he’d ordered in Danny’s.

“Told you so!” Tweek grins victoriously, “You know, I do think spaceman Craig has a nice ring to it!”

“Right?!” Craig matches his enthusiasm, “Finally, somebody who gets it! I wasn’t made for this monkey suit.” He smooths a hand over his clothes with a look of distaste that Tweek appreciates. “My dad really wanted me to use my maths degree and,” he air quotes, “ _‘dress like a professional’_. I’m really more comfortable in a hoodie and jeans. These shoes are the freaking worst. My toes are already killing me.”

“For what it’s worth, you look amazing,” Tweek has to hold back on all the compliments he wants to shower Craig with, taking a sip of coffee instead to keep his big mouth occupied.

Craig’s probably used to guys and girls checking him out, yet he still blushes a little. “I’d say you’re more attractive though. I’m usually the cold, broody one. Complete opposite of you!”

Their paninis then arrive, saving Tweek from being able to reply to that as his brain tries to figure out just what the heck is going on.

 _It’s simple,_ the paranoid side tells him, _this gorgeous stranger is probably looking for a one-night stand in a different town where nobody knows who is before he finishes his work and goes back home._

Right. Craig has to go back. He has a life. In fucking Manhattan. _Fuckety fuck fuck._

Suddenly, the lettuce tastes flat and limp as he chews it a few too many times. Swallows. Repeats. Luckily, Craig doesn’t seem to notice the sudden drop in mood. Tweek tries to keep smiling. It isn’t hard, especially when Craig ‘accidentally’ brushes his hand against Tweek’s as they both reach for their coffees at the same time.

They eat peacefully, Tweek glad of his manners that prevent him from wolfing the panini down when he realizes just how painfully hungry he is after all.

Tweek’s having such a wonderful time, he doesn’t want it to end. He’s even feeling brave enough to ask Craig what he’s doing in the evening. But Craig’s suddenly jolting as he looks at his watch.

“Shit, is that really the time?” He shoots an apologetic glance Tweek’s way. “It really flies when you’re having fun.”

“Oh, do you have to go already?” Tweek can’t keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“I’ve got a meeting at 2,” Craig says sadly, pulling his wallet out to pay. Tweek spies what looks like a photo of a guinea pig behind the transparent plastic side. _That’s so freaking cute. Can this guy get any more perfect?_

Craig tips the waiter generously and then takes his phone out of his inside jacket pocket. It’s small and sleek, and seeing it reminds Tweek once more of how far away their worlds are. Tweek pawned his shitty Nokia months ago to pay rent.

“I’ll give you my number, we can talk later?” Craig looks so damn hopeful and Tweek doesn’t know what to say.

So he lies, “I-err, left mine back at the apartment, sorry.”

“Oh, no worries,” Craig pulls a pen out of his goddamn wallet, some slim, retractable, fancy thing with the name of his bank written down the side. He takes a clean napkin from the table and scribbles down what Tweek assumes is his mobile number. “Call me?”

Tweek nods dumbly and then Craig’s face is right next to his, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Tweek.”

He’s out of the coffee shop, the bell dinging happily at his exit, before Tweek can whisper, “Oh, the pleasure’s all mine.”

Tweek sits there for at least another ten minutes, his cheek tingling. He only leaves when Linda comes over and gruffly asks if he’s ordering anything else. He crumples the napkin in his hand and steps back out into the sunshine.

_What the actual fuck?_

Tweek stares up at the sky. He’s going to be homeless in a matter of days, has barely any food in his cupboards and no job to his name.

_Is the universe really so cruel?_

Craig’s the man of Tweek’s dreams. Their chance encounter just happened in the right place at the wrong time. Tweek wonders what Kenny would make of it all, then realizes Kenny would probably just rib him for not jumping onto Craig’s dick. That’s not Tweek’s style, though. Once a prude, always a prude.

But there’s one thing he’s sure they’d both agree on: Craig Tucker deserves better than Tweek Tweak.

 _You have to sort your own shit out,_ his mind tries to be helpful, _you know what you have to do._

So Tweek does the hardest thing he’s ever had to do in his already difficult short life. He walks over to the nearest trashcan and throws the napkin away.

_What good’s a number when you haven’t got a phone anyway?_

He’s going to go back to his apartment, have a shower and wash it all away. The hope, the lies, the happiness, the pain. All of it.

\---

Tweek tilts his head back, the lukewarm water dripping down his back and swirling around the grotty plug hole. Prune-like finger tips rise to wash out the dollar store shampoo but halfway there the switch is flipped and he snaps, instead taking hold of his hair and pulling tightly as he screams into the void. The half-assed spluttering from the shower’s unable to drown out his voice.

The angry rumbles erupt from somewhere deep inside. _It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair!_

He shakes his head and the suds spray everywhere, streaking patterns over the filthy grout and damaged tiles like he’s inadvertently making an artwork simply entitled _breakdown_. The foam bubbles that survive the journey down his skeletal thighs take their position around the plug hole like sad, soggy marshmallows. Tweek stabs at them with his toe.

Craig had such a beautiful smile. If Tweek could imprint it on the back of his eyelids and wake up to it every morning, he would. But Tweek’s a realist. They would _never_ work. Craig’s successful and secure, while Tweek’s life has gone beyond shit and turned to compost.

He’s doing the right thing, closing the door to his world. A good guy like Craig doesn’t deserve to suffer with him. He should just keep smiling; find someone without a murky past and uncertain future. Soon enough, though selfishly, Tweek hopes _not too soon_ , Tweek will be but a hazy memory to Craig; a brief encounter on a warm day in April.

He gets what Kenny means now. Doing the right thing _fucking hurts._

In the morning, he’ll wake up bleary-eyed and poorly rested, ready to start the day like any other. He’ll slowly tear open another of Heidi’s gifted coffee sachets, pour it into his chipped white cup and sip it at snail’s pace until it’s tepid and tar-like. He’ll call into the coffee shops around town, ask if they’re hiring, then lament his existence on the bench around the corner, ignoring the stomach cramps that remind him to hit up Wendy’s soup kitchen.

He’ll fight to remember the smile that could have been a beacon of hope for his fractured, lost soul. He’ll look up at the night sky and think of Craig, a man as unobtainable to Tweek as Craig’s own spaceman dreams.

Perhaps Tweek can find solace in it somehow? For even though we know what stars are, they remain inaccessible, for we can never truly know a star.

**Author's Note:**

> The title and ending are taken from a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson. I actually wrote the ending section of this first so that I could concentrate on the fluff ha ha! Still, I’m angry at myself for not giving these two a happy ending here! As I wrote all the cute bits in one go, I found myself hesitating about keeping the original ending.
> 
> There’s so much unspoken back story here that I didn’t want to use but it can be interpreted however you see fit! I’d also like to apologize to any Danny’s reading, or if this is the name of an actual coffee business, I'm sorry! I just made it up and found it funny that it was similar to “Denny’s” (never tried their coffee, so not a slight against them either!)
> 
> Although this is definitely a one-shot, part of me wants more of this verse!! I just want my boys to be happy ha ha! Maybe I’ll just hc what could happen from here? Or if anyone feels like sharing any, I’d love to read them!
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
